


alone

by deanssammy (babylxxrry)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylxxrry/pseuds/deanssammy
Summary: they're not alone, just lonely.





	alone

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [31 Days of Winter Prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12873555) by [deanssammy (babylxxrry)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylxxrry/pseuds/deanssammy). 



> fill for day 19 prompts.
> 
> Prompt: Alone  
> Warnings/TWs: none  
> Tags: Angst  
> Pairing: Gen/NA
> 
> i visualized it as being set soon after samulet

They’re not alone in the physical sense of the word. They’re sitting in the same room, working the same case, talking quietly about anything relevant they’ve found.

But they’re so, so far apart. Might as well be alone with how far they are. They used to be able to read each other better than anyone or anything else. Now? It’s like there’s a division between them. Not just a wall to be torn down or a gap to be bridged. A division that’s impossible to close.

They might not be alone in the physical sense of the word, but they’re lonely.

All they’ve ever had is each other, and if they’re honest, they’ve never really had anyone else. Never needed anyone else besides each other, because they just _got_ each other, understood each other on a level beyond simple friendship and comradery.

It’s all thrown away, though, with six words.

“I’m sorry.  Please forgive me?”

“No.”

And it wasn’t a petty no, a bitter no. It was a broken no. It was a tired no. It was a _no_ that spoke to the tiredness, the sadness, the numbness that permeated too deep, too far.

They’re working in silence when Dean speaks, gazing evenly at his brother perched on the other bed.

“Merry Christmas, Sammy.”

Sam glances up, meets his brother’s eyes for a fraction of a second before he looks away again, but not before Dean catches the flash of pain and guilt and sorrow in his eyes.

“You too.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispers, voice breaking on the second word. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” Sam says without looking up from his screen, though his hands are still and he’s clearly not reading.

“I… I miss you, Sam. I miss us,” Dean says so quietly he might have imagined it himself.

Sam laughs, a choked, guttural sound that carries no humor. “There _is_ no us, remember?”

And it feels like Dean’s chest is being cracked open. It’s always been them. Always. There’s only a _them_. There’s no one else.

It’s Christmas and they’re alone.

 

 

-fin.


End file.
